Dreams of Red
by Shieru-chan
Summary: Fantasy AU. Saruhiko is a rich boy who serves the King he owes his life to and sees the world in gray colors. Misaki is a part of the Red Clan rebels who performs, steals and uses magic. How will their fates play out, when there are so many differences between them and magic is considered the greatest sin? SaruMi
1. Chapter 1

Plot summary: Saruhiko is a rich boy who serves the King he owes his life to and sees the world in gray colors. Misaki is a part of the Red Clan rebels who performs, steals and uses magic. How will their fates play out, when there are so many differences between them and magic is considered the greatest sin?

Pairings: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki (appearance of others)

Rating: T (may rise)

_Chapter one: Dreams of Red_

* * *

_'Try your best to avoid those magic users from the Red Clan, once they will target you, you will be broke, left without a single gold coin. Don't let that filthy charm get to you, they're all a bunch of hoodlums.'_

Fushimi Saruhiko remembers the rumors and tales he's heard about the Red Clan, but he is not taken by any of those. The warnings old rich women give their young snobby children so that they would stay away from the slums infested with magic users and witches, ring somewhere in the back of his head as he looks up at the starry night sky illuminated by red fire. He's on guard that particular night. From the corner of his eye he spots his subordinates having the time of their lives, drinking and cheering, faces red from the cheap vine, women by their side. They are enjoying themselves without a care in the world and Fushimi clicks his tongue agitated. They were on a mission that night. It appeared that the scum of their Kingdom were playing the good guys again and stealing from the rich district, taking everything they could. Fushimi could care less about those swine, he had a huge dislike for the rich people even if he was one of them, His Majesty's Munakata Reisi's most loyal dog, or so they called him, the third in command of Scepter knights. A man with power and graceful charm.

It was a joke for him to just be here, watching this façade. The King was a smart man, he probably knew that Fushimi was the only one fit for the job without forgetting what the job was in the first place. Sighing in defeat, Saruhiko clicked his tongue and turned his eyes towards the platform, mild curiosity in his eyes. Over the sea of heads he looked at tonight's main attraction. There, dressed in glaringly red and golden clothes performed the aforementioned hoodlums from the Red Clan, that called themselves Howling Flame. Another burst of crimson flames lit up the night sky, dyeing it orange and the crowd awed and cheered even louder, giving the young man an even bigger headache. Just a few looks at the illuminated eyes of these people and he could already tell that the crowd's been mesmerized by those pathetic magic users. A few more minutes and half of them will be left butt naked, robbed of every single valuable thing. Saruhiko closed his blue eyes and tried to calm himself, dispelling the useless charm and turned his eyes towards the dancers again, searching for any potential thieves that people mostly described. They worked in pairs or small groups they said. Before you even had the chance to react, you were alone without a single coin on you, a single piece of jewelry. They sent out the short ones, mostly with dark hair and slender bodies. _The most dangerous one is that kid… that kid who runs like the wind and the only thing you see is the whiff of auburn hair and a flash of red. He goes by the name of…_

"Yatagarasu…" a wild smile adorned Saruhiko's face as he looked at the platform that seemingly exploded in the flash of red and the Red Clan's most valued performer came into the view. A whip of scorching heat in the chilly night air hit Saruhiko's face and the man quickly started making his way through the crowd towards the platform, excitement pumping in his veins, eyes never leaving the agile boy. It was indeed true what the people said, he could barely keep his eyes off him, flashes of red illuminating his auburn hair, naked waist, reflecting images of fire in those metal bracelets around his arms and legs. His movements mesmerized Saruhiko, so fast and precise, the loose cloth of his blood colored pants that loosely swished around the short teens thighs accenting his water like movements and the dark haired youth knew that he was genuinely impressed, no pitiful charm affecting his curiosity. Finally peeling away from the rowdy crowd he found himself a perfect spot, closer to the front, right in front of the beautiful youth and the next few minutes felt like absolute heaven to the usually cold hearted Saruhiko. The glaringly red eyes met his own blue ones and a shiver of excitement traveled down the spine of Saruhiko's body, making him tense, muscles twitching slightly. He saw a small smirk gracing the auburn haired male's face, eyes glazing with some sort of emotion, making the short boy look even more sinful and attractive. With careful movements Saruhiko watched how the pale fingers of the dancer quickly untied the golden scarf wrapped tightly around his hips, the silver circles sewn on the edge jangling with every movement he made as he brought the scarf around his head and tied it on the back, hiding the auburn locks from the black haired man's view. Without turning away, eyes still locked with Saruhiko's, the boy whistled, a sound that rang clear over the music and the abnormally loud noise of the crowd. A man with straw colored hair appeared behind him also dressed in dark red (Saruhiko vaguely noticed that the man was performing just before the great Yatagarasu appeared) and threw a white shirt towards his colleague. Without even bothering to look back, the young boy flawlessly caught it, putting it on without bothering to button it up and made a clear beeline towards Saruhiko who was caught in some sort of trance. The dark haired man vaguely heard some complaints from the crowd around him, but he was too entranced to even care, eyes following every movement the shorter one made. His eyes roamed freely the slim body and all the noises around him seemed to have died down only leaving him and this beauty before him, colors blurring until the only thing he could see was the petite figure slowly approaching him much like a lion who was about to pounce his prey. Saruhiko released a breath he did not know that he was holding, and swallowed. Yatagarasu was indeed quite a sin. A simple person would have lost all of his senses right now. Just then the youth passed him, stopping close, their shoulders almost brushing against each other. He was short, really short Saruhiko thought. Probably around fourteen years old, if not younger, a good four-three years younger than Saruhiko himself, who was about to turn seventeen this autumn. All the dark haired youth could do was to stare down at those mesmerizing eyes, a beautiful color of brown still illuminated by the faint red light before them, and he felt himself drowning. Another playful smile was sent his way, and wordlessly the short teen started moving forward, diving through the crowd with slow experienced movements like a fish in the water and Saruhiko couldn't do anything but to helplessly follow, eyes focused on that golden scarf jangling in front of him. It took them a few seconds or were those minutes Saruhiko thought to finally leave the bustle of people and before he knew the dancer was all over him. The dark haired youth's back hit the cold stony wall behind him in a district he did not recognize, the faint sounds of cheerful masses in the night betraying that they had gone quite a way, without him even noticing. The knight clenched his teeth and clicked his tongue, looking down at the teen in front of him who was tightly pressed against his chest, face slightly illuminated by a flickering flame that shone ways ahead of them surrounded by moths attracted to its bright light. Saruhiko found it quite ironic, since he felt like he was a moth himself and Yatagrasu was a flame, alluring and bright. If he was to get too close, he might get burned. But if that fire was to be extinguished, no longer shining…

He tried his best to keep the smile from showing on his face. Instead Saruhiko lidded his eyes and stared at the boy's face intensely. Yes, he was indeed a beautiful one; there was no use denying that, a flawless face, sharp features and big eyes. A small palm was placed on his chest and Yatagarasu whispered, words not really fitting for a boy of his age, the expression not doing it any justice. How… _arousing_.

"I saw you watching, Sir Knight." The taller man heard slight sarcasm in the other's tone, the drawl of it almost made a laugh escape him. "Did I catch your interest…?" the warm palm went over the dark haired man's chest over his heart. A look of confusion flashed in the shorter one's eyes, but his face remained the same, a perfect mask of seduction. Carefully standing on his tip toes, the short boy leaned in close, so close that Saruhiko could count the dark eyelashes covering the shorter one's brown eyes. Warm puffs of breath fanned against his lips, and the hand on his chest disappeared.

And just then the charm snapped and Saruhiko watched the brown eyes widen a look of fear, disbelief and shock crossed his face, only to be changed into an expression of pure anger.

"What the fuck—what's going on?" the short one shouted loudly. The thin wrist was tightly grabbed in Saruhiko's palm, fingers closed around it tightly, and the tips of the dancer's fingers mere inches away from the leather sack at the knight's side, full of gold. He tugged helplessly, trying to free his hand, the metal of his bracelets jangling angrily. An insane smile graced the knight's face and he laughed, watching the dancer flinch.

"Ah… you people from the Red Clan are hilarious.~ What was that weak charm you used on me? Anyone could break that thing, and you call yourself a _magic use_r? Don't make me laugh, you weakling. Who taught you this? Your good for nothing poor witch infested family? Or could it be…" Saruhiko's gaze flickered from the angry face the teen was showing to his collar bone. The normal slave mark, a simple swirl, was distorted, flames added to the simple design."…that King of Thieves, the hope of you magician mendicants, Suoh Mikoto? Ah no wait, I hear that he's bad at magic, he teaches you violence and thievery right? It's his _precious_ Totsuka Tatara right, that-"

Before he could even finish, the dancer's leg shot out from his side and delivered a swift kick into his shoulder. Taking the opportunity, the short male freed his arm and rubbed his sore wrist, eyes vivid and devilish, face twisted into a look of pure anger. A look Saruhiko absolutely loved.

"Don't you ever fucking dare to talk like that about Mister Mikoto and Mister Totsuka, rich boy. You know nothing about what they do for us; you just sit around in your fancy palace without a care in the world, play the Blue King's dog and burn down our houses with your purges. People _die_ here, and don't you act like you _know_ anything about it, bastard."

That seemed to have hit a nerve in Saruhiko, his eyes darkened and without a second thought, he drew his saber out. The light flickered against the glass of his glasses, the temperature seemed to have dropped, chilly night wind finally blowing out the faint flames flickering in the lantern. The only light that still shone on them was the faint glow of stars and a white sliver of moon covered in thin clouds. Saruhiko wouldn't have had it any other way. If he was to teach this poor kid a lesson, he'd rather not see the spiteful face, covered in bleeding gashes directed at him.

"I know nothing…? Hah, it is you who knows nothing, brat. It is no use to even reason with you. Hoodlums like you have no excuse to roam around and make others life shit, just because they have it bad. There is no good without bad, brat. Now you better turn yourself in, _Yatagarasu_ or I will have to take you by _force_." The blade of Saruhiko's saber shone silver in the moonlight, a slight blue edge to it as he pointed it towards the petite boy, looking like he was about to pounce.

"Tche, bring it, rich boy." The dancer grinned, and without a second thought lunged forward. Saruhiko swung his saber, almost hitting him, but the quick boy dodged it with almost no effort, and tried to kick Saruhiko's legs to make him loose balance, making the taller one jump back and swing again, this time grazing the younger boy's shoulder. A hiss of pain escaped him and Saruhiko clicked his tongue in annoyance. His eyesight was already pitiful and now this darkness was interfering with his usually flawless movements, not to mention the dancer's speed and reaction were really annoying. He tried again, but the brat just jumped back, doing a back flip, twisted his body and got ready to kick him again. Saruhiko blocked him right in time, and the teen quickly jumped back on his feet, bracelets jangling and threw a punch, splitting the knight's lip, receiving a sharp slash against his ankle in return. The dancer stumbled back, trying to make as much distance as possible between him and the dark haired man. Angrily Saruhiko spit out the tangy blood from his mouth and pointed his sword towards the enemy.

"What's wrong, thief? Are you done already?" he growled, his head pounding. Exhilaration flew in his veins; it has been a while since he found himself a worthy opponent that could evade his slashes just like that, with almost no effort whatsoever. His eyesight finally got used to the dark and he saw the dancers grin widen. Something wasn't right… a jangle reached his ears, much heavier than the click clack of the boy's bracelets and scarf. His eyes widened in realization and he patted his free hand over his side. The leather bag… was missing.

The dancer started laughing hysterically, clutching his naked stomach. Saruhiko felt his eyebrow twitch and his cheeks flush with anger. How could he let his guard down just like that!?

"Hey, knight boy—_haha_… Looking for something?" the dancer shook the leather bag hard, letting the mocking clang of money fill the filthy alley they were in. "I thought they taught you these things, like not letting enemies get too close to you… I guess you really are that useless, huh?"  
"You… Get back here, bastard!" Saruhiko growled and jumped forward. Of course just as he expected nothing came from it. The smaller boy effortlessly placed his fingers into a hole in between rocks and like a cat grabbed the metal pole sticking out just beside it, jumping on it. By the time Saruhiko got there, the dancer was already at the roof of the half ruined building, grinning at him the biggest shit eating grin Saruhiko's ever seen in his whole life, looking beyond self pleased. His black leather bag was shaken above him and the dark haired youth clicked his tongue, glaring at the magic user, eyes livid.

"It's been fun, Mister Knight." Yatagarasu teased him, voice strained as if trying to keep in a laugh. It made Saruhiko's blood boil. "Thanks for the money, rich boy, our '_poor pathetic magician people_' will appreciate it more than you do. Better luck next time, ya loser!" the thief pulled at his lower eyelid and stuck his tongue out. Saruhiko was about to start bitching about it when a sharp whistle, the same that Yatagarasu used before resounded in the night air, and he saw the sky burn red once more. The dancer turned his head instinctively to the side and smiled. "Well, that's my call. Byesies, bastard, say hi to your King of Dogs for me."

And before Saruhiko could make a single complaint the dancer disappeared into the night. Anger flooded the knight and his arms shook wildly.

'_This kid… damn magic user, almost had him. What a strong kick, what crazy movements… this is not over, Yatagarasu, I will get back at you for it, and don't you fucking doubt me. I will find you and lock you up for good. Stupid Suoh, stupid Red Clan and their whole act of trying to be the good guys. Protecting the poor magicians? Hah! All of the magic users need to die, freaks of nature that is what they are with their devil charms_.' He placed a trembling hand over his rapidly beating heart. It still hadn't worn off, the charms that the small teen placed on him. It was a little weird though; the fast pulsing of heart should have kicked in around the time the youth placed his palm over his heart right… _there_. Shaking his head violently to rid himself of weird thoughts, Fushimi spun around on his heel and stalked off, towards the direction of the bright red sky where the night's festivities were held all the while wondering what kind of damage will the Red Clan do tonight. He still did not understand why His Majesty did not have all those Howling Flame's thieves arrested, especially that Suoh Mikoto person and allowed events such as these to occur all the time. It was hard to understand the young king, and everything the man did should not be questioned, the man could turn evil and sadistic in mere seconds, not afraid to show off his authority to everyone in the land. Just the mere thought made Saruhiko shiver. He failed his mission, fell right into the great Yatagarasu's trap, followed him obediently like a dog and did not manage to arrest him.

And he…

He left his subordinates in that maze of red. Left them charmed with Howling Flame's members roaming around freely. Cursing under his breath Fushimi took off running, hoping that the damage wouldn't be too great on the night he was supposed to keep watch.

* * *

Just like he expected, by the time he arrived, pure chaos had broken out. The platform was void of any life, people were rowdy, looking for their lost belongings.

His own subordinates stood there too, no money on them.

This was going to be one hell of a night.

Fushimi sighed as he dismissed the stupid subordinates of his into calling back up as a swarm of teary eyed women and angry drunk men surrounded him, complaining. To say the least it was the toughest night in Fushimi's whole seventeen years of living. He had worked till the sky turned bright; no traces of the Red Clan's members were found. Just when he was finally dismissed and hoped to get some good night's (mornings in this case) sleep, the King called him out. From the ever so passive Akiyama's expression he could already tell that the King was pissed beyond belief. And all the blame for this incident was going to be directed towards him.

After a long lecture and scolding from his King, who wasn't all too pleased with the turn of the events and Fushimi's story how one of Suoh's dancer's mesmerized him and pulled him into a trap, to which the King responded in that's why he was precisely sent there, to not get charmed like the rest of them since the dark haired youth was a 'special case', not to mention put in charge of it, Fushimi was beyond drained. Angrily he just bristled at the King to finally arrest Suoh Mikoto and to stop dancing around with him like it was a ballroom, earning a harsh slap on the side of his face and threats of getting dealt with his own insolence, the knight was excused. After dragging his feet for what seemed forever, not so secret whispers heard around him, most likely talking about him and his night's failures among the maids following him all the way, he finally reached his bedroom. Scaring the young maid in it that was wiping the huge windows, Saruhiko fell face forward into the fluffy bed, without bothering to take off his clothes and fell asleep.

* * *

Saruhiko dreams of red.

For as long as he could remember, ever since he was a little child that was taken in by the late king, he kept dreaming the same things, except the times he fell into a deep dreamless sleep. No one could actually explain it, why those dreams kept occurring. Some doctors said it was a trauma left from his sad childhood, something that will lead him for the rest of his life, incurable much like his poor eyesight, the few ladies that were experts in magic and were a must in the Blue King's castle, even if everyone discriminated them, treated them like abnormality, said that those were memories sealed away by his own power.

He tells the late King all about it, watching the cerulean eyes darken.

He's never seen those women in the castle again and a few days later he has forgotten all about them.

Saruhiko is a special case. Ever since he was a kid they kept repeating it over and over again. He was immune to spells and charms, one would call him a magic user, except he did not know how to use it. And he really did not want to. Magicians were evil, they twisted your image, planted illusions inside your head, is what he heard. He's seen the executions, the way they looked at you with those dead glistening eyes; he's been a witness to it all. He will never forget the time when an old woman who was sentenced for execution tried to curse him and the way her eyes shone. He was only thirteen years old back then, a clueless little lamb with its neck barred in front of wolfs, when the soon to be King Reisi appeared in front of him, shoved him roughly to the side plunging his saber into the woman's throat, no hesitation whatsoever.

_'Don't ever look into a witch's eyes._' He said, shaking his saber to the sides trying to clean it. Drops of red splashed the pavement. '_It is an order, Fushimi_.'

That night the King made a really huge feast, and Munakata was showered with praise and affection, to have such a majestic son that could kill the filth of their Kingdom so easily without any hesitance not waiting for the execution was perfection itself. Fushimi only took part in it, because it was absolutely necessary, since he was the one that Munakata saved, but excused himself as early as he could.

His dreams were the most vivid ones that night. Yet, he can't recall anything.

All Saruhiko knows is that they started becoming clearer since that day.

He dreams of red sky, red sunset, and red grass. Everything is bathed in that color, except for people and buildings. Those are black. In his dreams, he's almost always lying down and his face hurts for some reason. There are always people there, three or more of them, he doesn't know. They laugh and shout, cry. Spend time together. And Saruhiko is happy, because the people there are infecting him with their happiness. He doesn't see their faces, doesn't know what they are talking about, it's muted and he cannot make out a word they're saying, doesn't know their names, but their touches are real, so very real, warm palms hold his tiny hands, and he examines the bruises on the tiny knuckles of that person. Their hands are always dirty and bruised, Saruhiko notes, unlike now, pale and graceful. It is not just their hands, their knees are too, blood stains, a thin layer of dirt is there. He often complaints about it, asks them how they got it, the black shadows just laugh muted laughs and ruffle his hair in affection, and the evening's red sun is so blinding, that he feels like he's in heaven instead of earth.

Saruhiko dreams of the ones he loves. There is a hill, and a black tree there, illuminated leaves are glowing red. The grass is never green, it is stained crimson too. He is chasing someone, a black shadow there, and he wants to catch it more than anything. He searches and calls someone's name, a name he never knew, and the grass gently swishes against his waist, blown by the warm wind, tickling his thin arms.

He never caught that shadow, not even once. The shadow always finds him first, pouncing like a cat from the tall grass that almost hides him completely, scares Saruhiko like crazy, and laughs and Saruhiko laughs too, because he's happier than ever. They run towards each other and Saruhiko grabs the shadow's bruised muddy palms in his own.

He hates that part of his dreams the most.

The white smile on that coal colored face fades, and tears stream down the shadow's cheeks. Saruhiko panics and the person, the shadow, in front of him looks scared too, then its features change. Instead of looking down, Saruhiko needs to lift his face up, and there is a slim man, or a woman beside him, he's not sure, the hair is cut short, and the hands are rather feminine, but someone from before has those kinds of hands too and it is a male, so to this day he is not sure. His name is called and a bitter smile is given. It echoes in the vast field and the wind howls mockingly and everything is so _red, red, red…_

The field darkens and catches fire, scorching heat burns around them, the flames don't touch Saruhiko, and the heat burns his eyes, until he can barely see anything around him. The flames howl around him, and through teary eyes he sees the shadow burning away. He's scared, so scared, and the shadow smiles through tears a bitter smile that looks just like his, and the heat is too much, it continues to rise until Saruhiko passes out in his dreams and wakes up in reality, drenched in cold sweat, and his left shoulder burns, pain prickling at the scars on his torso.

He'd give anything for these dreams to stop. Either to stop or become clear, clear enough for him to see those faces, to see those people hidden behind black shadows. To see what he's been chasing for in his crimson dreams. To see those people in his dreams he loves more than his reality or the ones _in_ his reality.

Did he ever truly love someone? No, he did not. Everything around his was dyed in a blank gray color, everyone was the same. People were boring and not intriguing at all, no one caught his interest. He was a man of power and graceful charm, well liked and influential. Well mannered when the situation called so, like a true monarch. Girls and men alike were attracted to his naturally handsome features and beautiful appearance, a strong aura of power surrounding him like a blanket. Saruhiko's never had troubles luring women into his bed, doing unspeakable things to them in order to please himself and not the rich, refined ladies that never failed too amuse him with their indecency and one would call him a sinful person. They still enjoyed it, yet any further relationship was strictly forbidden and rejected. Fushimi found the rebellious poor girls roaming the corners of the city more intriguing than the fake politeness the daughters of powerful and influential lords dressed in fancy silk dresses, cleavages out in the open, faces powdered and lips smudged with wax like tasting rosy lipsticks. It made him sick in his stomach now after all those years passed and he was already nineteen, a fully grown man, and the swarm of females seemed to have increased, dead set on catching his interest. Many times the King tried to find his loyal follower an appropriate date, tried setting him up with women, hoping that Fushimi would finally pick one and marry her, but it never worked and the dark haired man usually disappeared without another word before the night ended, and it always ended up with him going out for a drink into the more alive parts of the city, visiting the pubs Doumyouji gladly pointed out years back.

_That one has great drinks, and the girls in that one are absolutely amazing. You need to be careful though, they are under the Red Clan's watch._

Yet Saruhiko never bothered to change into more common like clothes, and always went in his usual attire that he wore for formal meetings and balls, the one that screamed rich person. When he first started his nightly treks around the city, lots of people tried to steal from him and needless to say they were out cold before they could understand what was going on, and Saruhiko just carried on like nothing happened, not even bothering to look back. It has become somewhat a ritual to him to visit one of Red Clan's pubs in the middle of the night, lively as if it was only midday, grab a drink or two, enough to make his eyesight blur and his head fuzzy, grab a girl and take her back to the palace in absolute secret or go to a nearby hotel that he hated, since the dark haired man was a bit of a neat freak himself, the mere idea of fucking someone on a bed that was most likely used a few minutes ago disgusted him. He did not know why he kept bringing girls like that, maybe it was his way of trying to fill the empty void inside of him, but as the more time passed the less pleased he felt, and maybe what some of his love high subordinates and the King himself spouted about 'one true love' was actually true as cheesy as it sounded. But the world was so gray and boring, and nothing amused him anymore, where was he to find an individual that made his heart beat fast and the colors come back to his world even if only a little. Clicking his tongue in annoyance Fushimi looked through the window only to find it dark outside, since it was winter and all. Groaning he got up, ran his fingers through his messy hair and shook a dirty blonde haired woman beside him who was dozing of without a care in the world. Groggily she opened her brown eyes, so brown it pissed Saruhiko off beyond belief yet he did not know why. He has already slept in, a few more minutes and there would be maids banging his door, trying to wake him up. Today was a special day afterall.

She opened those sickly plump lips of her and tried to say something sweet but before she had the chance, Saruhiko barked at her to get dressed and get the hell _out._ Offended, she rose up, not minding the fact she was naked, collected her clothes strewn across the floor, angrily murmuring expletives underneath her breath. What a refined lady. Her rich daddy must be very proud to have a charming daughter such as her. Fushimi just stared in mild amusement as she dressed herself, trying to fix her appearance and left, slamming the oak door hard enough to shake the frame. With a sigh Saruhiko fell into the covers that smelled like sex and cinnamon and thought about feigning a headache, when there was knocking on his door just as he predicted.

"Sir Fushimi…? Are you up? The feast will start in a few hours; we need to fix you up. The King will be expecting you before tonight's festivities. He says it is very important. "

'The stupid King always says so…' Saruhiko thought bitterly, this time truly feeling a headache coming up. 'Ah, but this time he truly might mean it. Today is a very special day.'

A day he could not possibly miss. A slightly insane smile adorned his thin lips and he drawled out a soft 'Enter'. Three maids came in, not at least bothered by his indecency and Saruhiko stretched his lean arms over his head, as the eldest maid scolded him for bringing whores into his room again, but Saruhiko did not hear them.

_Today on December 18th the Blue King along with the rest of the city were celebrating the capture of Suoh Mikoto._

* * *

TBC

A/N: Haha okay whoah, this was very hard to write not to mention very tiring. I was inspired to write this, Oha Asa said Tauruses have great luck today ohohoho ;D~ My great luck is my inspiration. I am planning to make this a three shot, or maybe a two shot I am not sure. We will see I guess? I am not sure when I will update this, certainly not this week, because I will be busy as hell. I am afraid Yata and Fushimi aren't in character, but it will only be like this in the first chapter and only for the sake of the story, I promise. Any speculations are welcome; I love it when people guess. How will Fushimi-kun and Yata-chan meet? _What will happen next?_ Reviews are always appreciated. I love you so much guys, I wish I could hug you all and hold you close and kiss your cheeks, you made me so happy. This is a fantasy AU set in no particular country, so feel free to imagine their outfits however you like, though I was imagining their outfits in Arabian style ( too much Magi for me lol). If anyone is still confused, at the end of the fic, two years have already passed. Also who wants to kick things up a notch? I am talking about M rating –leer leer-

Dedicating this to my **Shouhei**, because I am a huge butt that won't write her Chitose/Dewa. I love you gurl, forgive me?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: _Ace of Swords_

This thing wasn't needed, Saruhiko thought. If anything it did not deserve this kind of preparation, not to mention celebration in the first place. Why in hell would you celebrate a thief's apprehension?

Munakata Reisi's thoughts were the most difficult thing for Saruhiko to decipher, or more accurately-impossible. They often did not make any sense, the Blue King acted as he pleased and did what he thought was right, of course all of that was only for the good of the Kingdom and its citizens.

Citizens. Not magicians.

He tried asking his bothersome maids, but they did not give him a proper answer only muttering something along the lines:

'Ah, of course this needs celebration! The King had listened to all of our complaints and now that it is over… Why not? Our people have been waiting for this moment to come for years now—'

He successfully tuned them out, not really bothering to hear them whine about the well being of 'successful rich lords and commoners' after all they have been through with all that stealing and terrorizing and what not. He has heard more than enough of those people whining his ears off and Saruhiko was more than glad that it would finally be over. No more bitching about lost goods, stolen jewelry, muggings. Ah, maybe he could finally get a break without having to lift himself from his warm and cozy bed at ungodly hours, without managing to get a wink of sleep after his own 'nightly activities'.

Speaking of his activities… All the more reason he did not want to go to this fancy ball. The black haired man had no doubt in his mind that he would be, once again, pushed against beautiful ladies dressed in revealing gowns. Either by his King, his colleagues or their fathers, it would happen.

All of that fake politeness, _socializing_, trying to avoid more than half of the people there—

All of this pain just because Suoh Mikoto was finally arrested.

A ball was really_ really_ pushing it.

Pain racked down his scalp and with a hiss Saruhiko glared at the brown haired old maid, the one that has been _unfortunately_ taking care of him ever since he was a young brat. She glared back at him, eyebrows furrowed as if daring him to complain and Fushimi just clicked his tongue in annoyance, trying to hold back snarky comments and complaints, turned his cerulean eyes away.

This was the number one reason he hated formal meetings and such in the first place. Every time these annoying women barged into his chambers, not really minding if he was busy or indecent just like he was a few minutes ago, and forced him into clothes which he hated with a huge passion. He hated fancy clothes lined in golden fibers, flowing around his skinny figure, drowning him in silk. It made him feel like he was truly a part of those rich snobby lords and he despised that. He had never truly belonged there, among those people, it suffocated him. He wanted to be free, dress however the hell he pleased and act however he wanted too, no restrictions, no anything. Maybe it truly was in his nature, seeing as he was born in a poor family and spent his childhood on the streets, not that he remembers any of it, not since that night. It was like a gaping black hole inside his head and he sometimes felt like he really forgot something important which made him feel anxious. He wanted to leave the palace as soon as he got that feeling, but after all this time he had learned to control it. When the late King was still alive, and Saruhiko was still little, he would try to sneak out, run away, run into the dimly lit streets, run run run… Somewhere far away, where he could feel like he had space to move around without any etiquette and other formalities.

Of course that never worked. He was caught every time and severely punished for it. For leaving just like that without any permission from the late King.

_'You're no longer a street rat, Saruhiko. It is time you forget your callings. This is your home now, this is where you belong.'_

He had his most cruel punishment that day; thrown into cellar for a few days, with barely any food and darkness all around him, confining him, restricting him in one place with no human interaction would drive anyone insane and break them.

He had learned his lesson and never ran away again.

Still, that need to leave never disappeared and sometimes he wished, that he wasn't the Blue King's most loyal subordinate with responsibilities burdening his back every day. Maybe if he was a lower rank… Ah, if only… His subordinates seemed to have it pretty easy; they had more spare time on their hands to spend with their families and lovers—

Harshly Saruhiko shook his head, trying to rid himself of these stupid thoughts. He should be proud to have made it this far, to have gained everyone's trust, power was everything in this country, something that he had great pride in as a knight. And loved ones? Family? What was that really…? It is not like he had anyone in the first place.

Another tug at his hair brought him back down to earth. That again.

"Quit moving so much, Fushimi, I can't finish yer hair like that y'know?" The maid barked at him, and glared daggers, black eyes gleaming in the faint light emitted by the silver lantern lit nearby.

"Watch what you are doing, maybe then I won't struggle." Saruhiko hissed just as threateningly as the woman beside him, eyes glittering with blue sparks in a challenge.

God he really _hated_ her. There was nothing more he wanted than to plunge one of his knives into that thick neck of hers and watch her bleed to death as he twisted the knife and stabbed once again. All he wanted was to watch her die choking on her own words that never failed to push all the right buttons of his and piss him off.

Saruhiko never truly liked her even when he was a kid. He used to wake up screaming in pain or fear from his nightmares, immediately that woman would barge in, worried and screaming (in her case asking, Saruhiko just thought that she was loud) what was wrong in that deep voice of hers and when the dark haired boy would just reply that he had yet another nightmare, she would gaze at him apathetically like a pig brought for slaughter and tell him to go back to sleep and stop his goddamned shouting for no big reason. If anything he was offended. He was a kid and she was put in charge of him. If you're in charge of someone you do not act like that and most certainly you do not make fun of it the next day.

Just thinking about it ruined his mood.

The gigantic maid barked a laugh and Saruhiko knew what was coming.

"Oh my, look who is actin' high and mighty, like a true prince, eh? All getting' pampered and covered in whores, poor King for having to deal with your daily caprices—God bless his soul, and poor lady Awashima for having to go aroun' lookin' out for ya and savin' your ass. You should be grateful for what ya have, kid, it'sa cruel world out there ya know, you would be lost without us—"

Anger boiled in his chest, eating at him like a giant beast and he clenched his fists at his sides. Oh how he hated her, he hated her so so much—

A meek voice interrupted the gorilla maid mid rant and stopped Saruhiko's murderous train of thoughts just in time.

"It's already d-done, Mister Fushimi…" the other girl gave one last tug at the dark purple band carefully banded around Saruhiko's right leg, yet tight enough for his legs to feel a little numb. Her yellow eyes were glistening with unshed tears and her lower lip trembled slightly. She was a pretty girl, the dark haired man thought, when he realized he hadn't seen her before. Or maybe he had, he never bothered to remember everyone's faces, people came and went just like that, so why bother.

The longer he stared the more the petite maid trembled and the gorilla maid tugged at his hair again.

"Stop it, yer scaring her with your staring! What's with all those death stares, she's just doin' her job, no need to look like yer about to murder her just for talking." The maid mumbled and pushed another pin into his hair. "We'll be done in a second, sweetie, gotta tame 'young master's' mane of hair here, impossible, absolutely impossible, how do ya even live like this, doesn't it get in the way, you could build a bird nest in here... tell your whores to not tangle it so much the next time, I can't unknot it afterwards.. tche, so annoying." The maid huffed in achievement and let go of him, towering over Fushimi with her massive height and gave a pleased smile. "There ya go, it looks better now, though if it were me I would have cut that mess at yer nape a loooong while ago."

"…I could've managed without this piece of crap in my hair."

"Wha' was that, ya little brat?"

"…Nothing."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Now go look at yerself in the mirror and tell me if there's anything more you'd like. Ah, what's with you not liking jewelry, don't you like to show of yer status to everyone you see? If you wore—"

Not paying attention, Saruhiko looked at his appearance in the tall mirror with skillfully carved edges. It felt like he was looking at someone else and not himself. With a frown he looked at his mirror image, displeased. Flowing clothes did not suit him in the least he thought and tugged at his silk pants, flowing freely around him, burying him in soft cloth, successfully camouflaging his far too thin thighs. Everything was dyed in blue, white, purple, gold. The shawl around his arms, flowing to the sides, constricted his movement, pinned with golden ornaments, sewn with golden fibers, unnecessary gems encrusted into his clothes, his arm bands that were cutting out his blood flow since the maids did a far too good of a job to tie the ribbons as best as they could, jewelry, shoes. The heavy jangle of his jewelry made his face turn even bitterer. The chains around his neck, he had no other word for it, choked him uncomfortably, the golden piercings pinned into his ears weighed a ton, and the god damned ornament that the gorilla maid worked so hard to fasten up in his dark hair, to keep half of his messy locks from getting into his face, was pulling at his hair until it hurt when the small squares pinned to it jangled from movement.

Saruhiko did not have the time to analyze his own displeasing appearance, when the maid shoved him towards the oak door and Saruhiko ungracefully stumbled forward.

"If ya got nothin' to say, then get goin', narcissist boy. The King is waitin' for ya, don't make him wait too long. Its gotta do something with that hoodlum from tha Red Clan or somethin', cause you missed out like ya always do. Hands of tha hair piece! C'mon go, go."

And Saruhiko much to his humiliation was all but shoved out of his own chambers in front of two maids looking at him with pity in their eyes.

He will kill this gorilla maid one day, he so will. For making him feel like a twelve year old trouble making child and treating him like this, while knowing that he couldn't fight back, just because the rules said so.

Just because that there were certain lines he could not cross in this palace.

* * *

The building that day was unusually weary. Unlike every day full of liveliness, cheering, fighting and laughing it seemed void of life. Silent, so silent you could hear the faint sounds of the city, lively and raucous as always, as the 'special' citizens carried on with their lives as if nothing had happened.

Silence didn't go hand in hand with the Red Clan or so as they called it Howling Flame.

It was weird to say the least, but he wouldn't have had it any other way. He just could not deal with the usual ruckus right now.

Patience was wearing thin, and he needed that the most right now. It will be alright, it will work out, he—no _they_ just had to wait. The man pulled the thin long pipe from between his lips and exhaled the smoke, watching it disappear in small waves and pulled his right leg closer to his chest, with a faint click clack of some bracelets jangling together. He curled into himself even more and looked out through the window. The street was empty, he hadn't seen a single person walk by today, so maybe they were aware of it. Either that or no one wanted to mess with the Reds after their great loss, which was the most likely in his eyes.

The great Suoh Mikoto was captured by the Blue King and will most likely be sentenced to a public execution if not killed by now. No, he'd rather not think about it right now…

Everyone was scared, all of those who were deemed lowlifes not worth walking on this earth, filthy magicians and those born poor, so poor they could not possibly pay their taxes and deemed just as useless. Their greatest hope for a better tomorrow was destroyed completely once they placed those chains on Mikoto for everyone in these parts of the town to see, everyone was devastated. Now that Mikoto was gone, what would they do? What if their families got blamed, targeted, hunted down? What if the purges were conducted once again and everything was going to be set ablaze in order to get rid of their blood. People were sick and twisted, they were afraid of things they did not understand and did not have. No Suoh Mikoto to protect them, to cut the chains of slavery, fear and persecution.

What is the Red Clan against the Blues even with magic, magic so weak they relied on others and not themselves to make it work, what was the Red Clan, _what_… That situation will happen again and again and if Mikoto won't be there to save them what is he going to do, the only one left to keep them steady and grounded, he wasn't that strong, he wasn't like Mikoto.

_Nothing like him._

He won't be able to save his family like that and his family was the most important thing to him in this world, he'd sacrifice himself as many times as needed—

The reds and oranges of the upcoming sunset dyed the sky even though it was still rather early, reflecting shades of crimson from his blond hair and he felt so old, much older than a man in his late twenties and the time was going so fast yet so slow at the same time.

_'Don't you dare to just leave like that, we'll get you back, we need you here. Hurry, we need to hurry.'_

Sparing one last glance at the red sky the color of _his_ hair, he looked around. A straw color haired man paced around the room in circles, gnawing at the skin near his fingernail, a bad habit the older man noticed, the younger male never quite got rid of ever since he was a little kid and kept doing that every time he was stressed. Jangling followed the quick pacing movements of the younger one caused by the scarf tightly tied around his waist. The click clacks seemed to have annoyed another member of the Red Clan with black hair as he stared at the straw color haired man, an empty bottle of wine obviously stolen from the cellar, he was going to get hell for this afterwards, face flushed dark red and eyebrow twitching repeatedly. The black haired man opened his mouth ready to scold the pacing man, but immediately shut up when the older one puffed the smoke out and glared in warning.

No shouting. There was not going to be any shouting until they were done.

Magic was really amazing, yet he couldn't help but worry—

"Mister Kusanagi."

A voice, so void of the usual liveliness and obnoxious shouting reached his ears. There curled in the corner sat their youngest male member of the group, looking vulnerable and at least five years younger, like a distraught child. Waiting has done that to the whole lot of them.

"…Are they done yet? It is already getting dark and others still haven't returned… We don't have time. If we won't hurry up they might k-ki—"

Everyone in the room grew tense and turned their eyes to the auburn haired male, looks of disbelief and irritation on their faces, some of them gasping in shock. No one could believe their own ears, this boy, the one who loved their King more than anything in the world was saying something so preposterous.

The aforementioned man—Kusanagi Izumo gaped at the shaking boy and opened his mouth ready to consult him when hisses of some other members interrupted him. The black haired man pushed off one of their members that was sleeping on his lap, releasing a string of curses when the other barely moved, stood up on shaky legs, swaying to sides ever so slightly and pointed a finger at the distraught auburn haired teen.

"Now listen here, ya brat. Wh'… who gave you the right to say that? The King is _invincible!_ So stop your fuckin' whinin', jus' because they g't 'im—_oh for the love of God, stop pacing_, it's giving me a headache!" The angry man spun on his heel almost falling down in the process and turned his face towards the male with straw colored hair, eyebrow twitching repeatedly. Kusanagi raised his eyebrow. It wasn't like Bando Saburota to be this angry or stupidly brave really. All that alcohol truly worked wonders on him it seemed and now he was asking for it, Kusanagi thought turning his gaze towards the small teen. He could almost see the fuse shortening, eyebrows slanted into a frown, small hands forming fists.

Startled the man with straw colored hair jumped up in surprise, the tip of his thumb he was gnawing on earlier leaving his mouth, lips forming into a pout.

"Ah, I'm sorry,_ San_—"

"Enough with your sorrys, Shouhei, listen to yer elders damn it and go change, we aren't on duty right now ya look ridiculous, and it's _distracting_."

Obviously offended Akagi Shouhei huffed indignantly and crossed his arms, pushing his lower lip out like a five year old child throwing a fit. "I don't see what is _wrong_ with the way I am dressed."

"Ya look like a damn woman, where da hell did'ya get thi' anyway? Did you steal it from a belly dancer or somethin'?" Walking up to the younger, the black haired man tugged at the ends of Shouhei's red shirt that indeed looked rather feminine. It was untied revealing his chest, ended an inch or two below his ribcage, golden patterns sewn all over the maroon fabric. "And it is Bando, Ban—do, s' stop callin' me that nickname, we ain't nine anymore-"

"How can you say that, _San_, Mister Totsuka gave this to me!"

_Twitch._

"Why do you keep bothering him, you moron? Leave Shouhei be, he didn't do anything."

Finally, the small voice from before turned to its usual level of loudness and the auburn haired teen stood up, anger radiating from him like fire. "And stop your yelling it is _you_ who gives _me_ a headache. If you got a problem, I'm ready to kick your ass right here right now!"

_Twitch twitch._

"Y-Yata, please calm down, we don't want any troubles, remember that we have a job to do." A tall big man, with blond hair, Rikio Kamamoto who was somewhat Yata's partner in crime yet kept him in check most of the time interfered trying to calm the soon to be brawl.

"Don't interfere, Kamamoto! I gotta teach this punk a lesson!"

"Gimme yer best shot, midget!"

"N-Now now, calm down, you guys…"

"Shut up, Shouhei!"

"Eh…? What is this noise all about, are you guys fightin'..?"

"YOU STAY OUT OF THIS!"

"_Stop this racket right now_!" Kusanagi roared, his patience finally snapping. The place went quiet once again, eyes turned to him. He turned his gaze to the troublemakers, eyes lucid. "You two shut up _right now_, before I kick you out! This is no time to be fighting among ourselves, so keep quiet and sit the fuck down, otherwise we won't see Mikoto and we don't fucking want that now do we?" in utter fear they shook their heads, eyes wide. "Good, so now be good kids, act nicely and wait. _Am I clear_?"

"Y-yes sir…"

The bar went silent once again, Yata and Bandou glaring at each other from their places and Kusanagi sighed. It was hard dealing with their kids, not to mention when there was alcohol involved. Everyone was tense, nervous and they didn't really know what they were doing, each one of them lost in their own thoughts.

Just then the heavy curtain from a certain room lifted and a heavy smell of incense filled the air, a spicy scent of cinnamon and a small girl with white hair appeared. Kusanagi mustered his best smile and greeted her.

"Are you done, Anna?"

The small girl hummed in approval and nodded her head, fixing the red rose slipping from her hair. Kusanagi quickly stood up, ready to go into the room hidden by the thick curtains when Anna ran pass him and stood in front of still fuming Yata.

"Misaki."

Blinking his brown eyes in surprise he pointed his finger to himself.

"He wants to see me…?"

A nod. "Misaki first, Izumo later. Hurry. He is very tired." She pointed at the curtains, and quickly Yata rose up and followed the small girl, wondering what it could be that their skilled Magician wanted to tell him. It must be very important if he asked for him instead of Mister Kusanagi to enter the room first. Feeling uneasy, he pushed the curtain aside, letting the spicy scents assault his nostrils and he felt uneasiness wash over him. Something was up; he could feel it in his heart.

Stepping into that room changed his destiny completely and turned his life upside down.

That was the last time the Red Clan saw Yata that evening.

* * *

Just like he had suspected this evening was turning out to be quite a mess.

After a small meeting with his King and some other members of Scepter knights that were in charge of Suoh Mikoto's arrest (lead by Lady Awashima herself) Fushimi was sure that he won't be able to deal with the attendants with his shitty mood. Discussing plans or future and ways to get rid of everyone's magic in the Red Clan, did not interest him in a bit. It seems they had found out the source of everyone's magic, and just like Saruhiko thought every end led to only one person that went by the name Totsuka Tatara and served as his '_King's'_ vassal. Apparently no one felt the need to deal with him, they did not fill in Saruhiko any details. He felt so out of place, so left out. It was like everyone knew something he did not and they did not bother to fill him in, serious eyes of their knights looking at him with these weird glints in them. The dark haired youth tried to brush it off, but the longer it went the more pissed off he became. When they were dismissed he was the first one to storm out, sending one last hateful glare at Lady Awashima, and she returned it with the same force. It was all her fault that he did not take part in the arrest, she sent him out of the city with orders and by the time Saruhiko returned the King of Thieves was already placed under arrest. Almost everyone around him was in a great mood, cheering, downing drinks and praising Reishi Munakata and his iron rule. To say that the young man was a bit surprised would be an understatement. Especially when he saw that some people dressed in less fancy clothes were shedding tears, kids with dirty hands and knees and immediately Saruhiko knew that something big must have happened, something that involved the Red Clan.

It was very shocking when he heard the news and his blood boiled. He wanted to take part in it more than anything and then that annoyance that went by the name Awashima Seri interfered, leaving everyone, his gorilla maid included _teasing him_ about it.

Awashima was showered with praises for her brilliant strategy; Saruhiko had to admit it was indeed well planned, if not a bit of abominable. To take hostages like that for the Red King to surrender, it was shocking that she managed to catch them and make them surrender in the first place, they said that their magic wasn't exactly in place that day, was a bit of a foul play, but the most logical thing to do without anyone dying. It only took a few words, and their 'King' was downright ready to give himself in, hands chained for all his dear followers to see.

What a pity, if Saruhiko was there blood would have been shed. Negotiations weren't his strong side and what was the fun if you didn't get to stab one magician or two?

They should have used the purge method long ago, all they needed to do was to set some things on fire and burn, _burn fire, burn all of them alive._ At least they would be rid of all that filthy magician blood, but the new King, their strong and dependent Reishi Munakata as much as he hated magicians valued his less fortunate citizens' lives. Fire wasn't going to choose what to burn, magician or a poor person, everything will be eaten by its flames. Nothing but burning flesh and ashes would be left behind.

As if he was in some sort of trance, Saruhiko scratched at the burn marks on his left shoulder, scars from long ago. Fire never chose… It ate everything in its path. He placed the glass full of alcohol he did not recognize to his lips and sipped, watching the small flashes of red reflecting on the many dancers there. It felt like he… forgot something. Something was out of place and the more time passed the more uneasy he felt. _What was it.._?

A small feeble voice interrupted his train of messy thoughts, this time it was directed to him. Everyone was talking while Fushimi didn't even try to pretend that he was listening to those conversations, a look of boredom on his face.

"Sir Fushimi, are you feeling well? You look… sick."

Ah yes, it was her, who else would it be Saruhiko thought and resisted the urge to roll his sapphire eyes. Tonight she was the one Munakata had presented to him, like the last few times. Her name was Yukizome Kukuri and she was indeed quite something to the dark haired youth because she seemed like the only girl out of the bunch through the years that frankly was not interested in him whatsoever. He has to give his King some credit, the man obviously had noticed his type over the years. Brown short hair and big brown eyes. She was really pretty and elegant, he could certainly give her that much with her purple silk flowing dress, layers upon layers of smooth cloth, so thin it was almost see through, accenting her slim figure quite nicely. Her eyes flashed in slight concern as she looked into his own sapphire ones. The dark haired youth just waved his hand.

"I'm just feeling tired, that's all." He mustered the most polite response he could and she just pressed her lips together tightly, nodding wordlessly. Saruhiko could see the perfect mask of interest in others conversations come back on her face once again, while her eyes secretly glanced to her side. A rosy pink flush dusted her pale cheekbones and immediately Saruhiko knew what made her this way or more like who made her flustered. It took only one glance and he saw him standing right there, the kid who's name he could not remember—it was Mishina or something, this greenhorn who only recently joined Scepter, glancing to their side, trying to catch Kukuri's gaze and once he did his face turned dark red. He saw Kukuri wring the handkerchief she held tightly in her hands from excitement and Saruhiko sighed.

It was gross just to watch, but that is how things like love worked. All he knew was that Kukuri did not belong here by his side, neither did he by hers, but knowing her father, that boy will certainly be killed if the old man as much as saw him touching his daughter on the hand. The Yukizome family was quite famous and one of the wealthiest in the country, it was no surprise why Munakata had insisted that they would meet each other some time ago. A young, beautiful and wealthy girl, what could be any better than that?

Wordlessly Saruhiko rose up from his seat, nodded his head and excused himself. A thankful look was sent his way from Kukuri and she rose up too. They walked in utter silence and parted ways, the Yukizome heir trying to find a way to meet Mishina without causing too much suspicion, while Saruhiko aimlessly made his way through the mass of people and rubbed his palm over his forehead. The music pounded in his hears the beat of it putting him to sleep and all that alcohol he drank before made his ears buzz and his eyesight blur. It felt like he wasn't exactly there, the drowsiness making his eyelids heavy.

What the hell was going on it wasn't like he drank that much so why..? Suddenly it felt like the sound went up a few notches and he looked around annoyed, glaring at some dancers, blurs of red in his eyes. His chest tightened, he knew this feeling, where was it from... Face burning he looked around and then he saw.

_That person._ Wait, didn't they meet before? The black hole in his head was back again and he wanted to scratch at his head in frustration.

Somewhere… _somewhere…_ where was it? When did they meet? Or maybe they never did and he was imagining things.

Red clothes, the ones the dancers wore, red… _Red._ Naked waist, bracelets, the scarf barely covering the lithe torso, auburn hair…

The lithe figure turned around, eyes widening and it felt like something snapped in place, yet he still couldn't quite put his finger around it, his head pounding.

The short boy looked around and cautiously slipped through the crowd, almost disappearing out of sight but no one noticed much to Saruhiko's surprise, like the person was never there to begin with. He thought that he had started seeing things, shook his head but then he saw him again standing at the corner of the hall, a small smirk gracing his lips, eyes burning into him, a red glint in them. Wasting no time Saruhiko followed.

This sensation… where had he felt this before?

A part of him wanted to chase after the lithe boy, but his more reasonable part screamed at him to stop, yet his legs did not listen and before he knew it he was in one of the chambers in palace. With his leg the small teen kicked the heavy door shut and before Saruhiko knew it his whole world tilted and the auburn haired youth was on top of him, a dagger pressed into his throat. The eyes boring holes into his skull turned normal again, the red scarf somewhere on the floor far away from them and once the jangling stopped, Saruhiko's senses came back. All of his memories flooded back to him and he clicked his tongue.

How could he have fallen prey into this guy's hands a second time? How could he have forgotten_ him_? The memory from more than two years ago was still blurry, yet he did not know why, it wasn't that long ago really, but he could care less. All he knew was that this was the guy that fooled him, played him like a puppet on a string and ran away. The dark haired man tried to twist his body around and shake the smaller one off of him but the sharp metal was pushed into his throat even deeper, warning him.

"Don't you even fucking think of moving, or I will kill you." The boy hissed, fingers curling into his shirt. A wild smile appeared on Saruhiko's face.

"It's been a while, Yatagarasu. Didn't really expect to see you here. Could it be you came all this way just to see me? Grew attached to me perhaps?" He just couldn't help but mock the shorter one, a laugh escaping him when he saw the lithe man's face grow darker.

"What the fuck are you on about, like hell I am! Now shut up, and tell me where _he_ is!"

Ah, of course, here to rescue his precious Suoh Mikoto._ Why was he not surprised…_

"Tell you where he is? I have no idea what you're talking about, Yatagarasu." Oh how he loved seeing that face grow angrier by the second, eyes lucid. His eyes looked at the dagger the smaller one held. The handle was golden and had some jewels encrusted into it, Saruhiko knew stuff was expensive the moment he saw it and this one most definitely fit into that description. "I see you keep stealing, even with him gone. What a bad kid, didn't anyone teach you any better? Oh right, I forgot. _Sorry_" He smirked in mock apology and the dagger sank into his neck even further, slicing slightly. Yatagarasu just growled like a true animal and leaned closer, close enough their noses were touching, auburn hair tickling Saruhiko's forehead.

"Stop fucking around and tell me where he is, or this same dagger will be etched into your throat. I came here all the way into this stinkin' castle to get some answers and I sure as hell will get them even if it means stabbing one of your kind or two. Give Mister Mikoto back to us, _tell me where he is damn it!_"

The desperation however well masked could be heard in the smaller one's voice, his hands shook slightly and Saruhiko felt annoyance flood him, so intense he could not explain it. He's heard stories of Suoh Mikoto and how he meant the world to a lot of people out there, but to care for him _on this level_, care so much that he went into the lion's den just like that sacrificing himself, knowing fully well that he might not return alive. Not even he was loyal like that to Munakata so seeing this devotion made him confused.

"Why would you go through such lengths just to save him?" the question slipped pass his lips before he could even register it and hung heavily in the air.

There was a moment of silence, only their breathing disturbing it. The shorter male sucked it a deep breath and lidded his eyes, a melancholic look in them.

"Because he is our only hope in this corrupted country, but I don't expect you to understand." A bitter laugh escaped the auburn haired male. "You who was born into luxury, secured under the King's wing will never _ever_ understand what it is like down there in the real world, _in our world_. We are equal, blood or social status means shit. I don't expect you to understand what magic users go through _every single day_. We are _dying_ out there, starving to death and _you are not willing to help us_. That's where Mister Mikoto comes in. "a slight smile graced his lips, full of fondness."He is the ray of hope for everyone, can't you see? If it weren't for him, half of the people out there would be dead from starvation. I don't plan on seeing my comrades and friends die, whether it is from hunger, _diseases_ that start eating magic until the user can no longer stand up and the only option left is to _die_—" his voice turned even more bitter "or your fucking purges. I keep losing so many people and I can't just stand back and do nothing, _you won't ever understand, so give us Mister Mikoto back, give him back_. I will do _everything_ to get him back to our family and no one not a single one of you _will be able to stop me_!"

There was a moment of silence as Saruhiko tried to process what he heard and resisted the urge to snort. This kid was truly a child with his ideas of justice. Equality? Ray of light? _What nonsense._ He was so stuck in his own creation of perfect world; he failed to notice anything around him. World was not fair, _nothing_ was, it was_ hard._ Just like he thought, they were a bunch of poor kids playing their pretend family game and trying to go against the nature of the world.

Fushimi Saruhiko has heard tales and stories of magicians from old women.

A sense of insecurity guided him here. Without Suoh Mikoto their family was not complete and they looked out for their own kind, treated each other as equals. A smile appeared on Saruhiko's face.

He knew what to do.

"I understand you."

"Wh-What?" the boy above him shifted down a little, eyes wide yet cautious as ever. Piece of cake. He was walking right into Saruhiko's trap without knowing it.

"I said I understand. I am sorry that Mikoto is arrested; I know how unfair everything is. Do you think I enjoy it here? With this entire pretense they're turning your backs on you. I don't belong here I never truly did."

The auburn haired boy eyed him warily, trying to pick up if the dark haired one was lying, eyes roaming the pale beautiful face searching for some sort of nook or cranny in that flawless mask of pity, something that would tell him the taller one was lying and give him away completely. He shifted again, settling on the dark haired man's stomach, removing some pressure from the dagger. No way was he going to trust him. _Not yet…_

"What makes you say that? You're Munakata's dog here, yet you're saying that you don't belong here. Do you think I am going to buy it just like that? Do I look stupid to you or something?"

"I wasn't there during the arrest, and the information where the leader of Red Clan is held captive is confidential so I don't know where he is." Fushimi rolled his eyes. He was way too honest with this kid, but maybe that was exactly what did not give him away. Better for him really, the lesser chance that he'll get caught, the better.

Yatagarasu just lifted one of his eyebrows and his gaze turned sharp. "Go on." he commanded.

"As I was saying, I don't belong here, that is because you see… "He lifted one of his hands to his chest and the shorter one growled in warning pressing the tip of his dagger into Saruhiko's throat, eyes focused on his chest, as if trying to see through it if the taller one had a knife of some sort inside of his shirt, but that was just stupid, the shirt was tight around his body, so he allowed the small action and that was enough.

Warnings their Magician gave to him resounded in the back of his head, warnings of all sorts that he did not hear, his thoughts about Mikoto and _Mikoto only,_ about the castle and the visions, but what he saw was too unexpected,_ too damn sudden._

"You see… I am…" one of Saruhiko's hands slipped inside his shirt tugging it to the side, revealing a nasty looking burn on it, flesh blackened. The shorter one's eyes turned wide and his dagger slipped from his arms with a loud clang against the marble floor, the sound echoing in the room.

"N-No way… there is no way…"

Right there in the middle of that nasty scar was a sign, a swirl of red right above Saruhiko's heart, a sign that marked him, a sign he despised, scratched out and barely recognizable yet it was there. There to remind him of the past and his origins, a mark of shame.

"I am one of your kind."

To tell the truth Saruhiko wasn't expecting the reaction he had received, the smaller boy was so shocked like he had seen someone slaughtered in front of his eyes. Mild shock? Yes. But this was too weird.

"No way… this is not possible. I don't believe this." His hands were shaky when he reached out and grabbed at his glasses surprising Saruhiko, and quickly removing them from his face, making Saruhiko's vision blur and he felt slightly vulnerable, unable to see Yatagarasu's face clearly, but not for long as he leaned in closer, his fingertips still on the sides of his face, erratic puffs of air reached his lips and Saruhiko shivered, eyes widening.

"No, I will never believe this. You are...!"

And just then Saruhiko felt his head swim again, this time much worse than it had before, his eyes widened, pupils dilated and before the auburn haired male could finish his knee shot out and slammed into the shorter male's stomach knocking him out. Once he was sure the other wasn't moving, he pushed the small figure away from him and stood up as fast as he could. Picking up his glasses and the red scarf, bundling it up and hiding it behind the flowing white shawl he ran to the door, locked them and left in search for others, all the while feeling like this body did not belong to him.

It was no longer him, this person.

_"Ace of Swords…deception and exposal. Be careful please. This will be hard and… watch out, something doesn't look right."_

The next day Fushimi Saruhiko forgot all about that conversation.

On December 21st the vanguard of the Red Clan Misaki Yata was taken into custody.

* * *

TBC  
AN/ oh my fucking god you guyyyyyyys. I cannot believe I actually managed to type this out. Took me a while. Then when I was about to post it my internet disappeared and I was downright ready to tear my hair out, it was so damn frustrating, I love you guys so much and I wanted to post this for you and you only-kissus- Finally my winter break started, and I can relax. I studied hard and in the end it paid off ~now I can be a lazy ass for the next two weeks...haha yeah right. So many fanarts to draw, so many fanfics to write...

THIS IS MY CHRISTMAS PRESENT FOR YA'LL MY DARLINGS. REACH FOR THE STARS BECAUSE YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, I WISH YOU AN AWESOME NEW YEAR. See you next year? I don't think I'll manage to update this fic before 2012 ends. AND DON'T CRY WHEN K ENDS, I WILL TRY TO CHEER YOU ALL UP WITH MY FICS.

SPECIAL THANKS TO MY MASTER, **SHOUHEI-KUN** (GO READ HER STORIES IF YOU HADN'T DONE IT BY NOW) I love you baby, have a nice year and thank you for your presents~

Also due to popular demand, I will write more chapters for this fic SO BE HAPPY. YES.

BUH BYE FOR NOW.


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